


Justice, Reversed

by SpooKyra



Series: Top Goro Week 2021 [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Persona 5 Protagonist, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, M/M, Slight Top Drop, Top Akechi Goro, akira's danger kink, confidant forming, dick stepping, topgoroweek2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpooKyra/pseuds/SpooKyra
Summary: A chance encounter in Mementos leaves Akira with a bond he's never experienced before.Day 7: Eboy/Streamer AU //Prostitution// Daddy Kink
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Top Goro Week 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127657
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91
Collections: TopGoroWeek #1 2021





	1. First encounter

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to day 2 sort of. This isn't _technically_ prostitution, just like a very loose interpretation because I didn't really vibe with the other ones sorry  
> Also yes, there IS a part two with more porn than dick stepping, it just didn't fit in with the prompt since I refuse to write first time

Mementos becomes his escape in a sense. Training there becomes a good excuse for getting some time for himself, especially after he convinced Morgana to let him go alone—a feat only accomplished by bribery and how he goes to sleep as soon as he comes back. 

Though Madarame has been brought to justice and they’ve managed to help their newest addition to the group, it seems like Akira can never really catch a break. Getting blackmailed by the student council president—even if her stalking attempts were a joke—was certainly not on his to do list. Her deadline was unreasonable and coupled with the results they’ve been getting, the stress is starting to catch up on him. A week is not enough time to process the whirlwind of events that happened: fear and anxiety of the change of heart not working, making sure Yusuke doesn’t end up homeless, celebrating their victory, the school trip with the cute detective who insisted on trading numbers—and that’s a whole other can of worms Akira doesn’t want to open.

The sound of a gunshot reverberates the tunnels of Mementos. It’s loud enough that he pats himself down to make sure his own gun didn’t misfire, but the sound of a second one has him running towards the source. He doesn’t hesitate to jump through the strange portal that leads to sectioned off areas of Mementos, though in hindsight, Akira really should’ve come up with a plan of some sort. 

A gun is trained on him as soon he lands, and he can just make out the remnants of a shadow fading away. Not in the way he’s used to seeing. 

“You…” Akira wets his lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “You killed him.”

After the initial shock passes, he gets a full view of the other, eyes immediately drawn to the black mask. Madarame’s words flash in his head and for the first time in the Metaverse he feels fear without a status ailment. He freezes in place when the figure laughs.

“Yes, I did. How very observant of you.” His voice is heavily modified, a staticky quality to it. “So you’re the Phantom Thief wreaking havoc upon society,” he says, sounding incredibly unimpressed. 

Akira pockets his hands, going for nonchalant. “What gave it away?” He snarks. 

“Awfully cocky, aren’t you?” Black Mask regards him coldly. “I could end your life in a heartbeat and no one would know.”

“You could,” he agrees. “But you haven’t done it yet,” he throws back, hoping that doesn’t immediately get him killed.

Black Mask hums in consideration. “I’ll admit, I’m quite curious about you. You and your pathetic little band attempting to enact  _ justice  _ on the world. It’s so pitiful I have to laugh.” He lowers his gun

“You’re just… letting me go?” Akira slowly backs up, wary of his sword and gun despite both being safely put away.

Black Mask lets out an annoyed sound. “What? Did you expect something else?” He takes a step forward. “Were you hoping for something  _ more _ ?”

The flirtatious tone has Akira giving him a once over. That skin tight suit certainly doesn’t leave much for imagination; combine that with the lingering adrenaline from having his life on the line, and can Akira really be blamed for how his body reacts? His breath hitches when Black Mask gets closer.

“You want me to take something in exchange for your life,” he states rather than asks. His talon tips Akira’s chin up. “Tell me what you had in mind.”

Akira swallows, watches Black Mask’s eyes flicker to his throat behind the red visor. He bites his lip. “You know,” he mumbles.

“Not a clue,” Black Mask says in a tone that clearly says he knows  _ exactly _ what he means.

“We didn’t even fight,” he says instead of the obvious answer they’re both dancing around.

Black Mask scoffs. “You’re hardly worth my time.”

He pulls his hand away and Akira grabs it in a panic, stopping him from leaving. He wants… 

Akira’s hand is still attached to his wrist, but Black Mask’s stiff posture signals that that could change at any moment. “ _ Fine,” _ he growls. From beneath his red visor, his eyes flicker down. “If  _ you _ won’t tell me, I’m sure your body will.” He grabs Akira’s wrist and twists it until he drops to the ground in pain. “I wonder,” he muses aloud. “How long have you been hard?”

Akira doesn’t answer, too distracted by the sight in front of him. Up close like this, he can see  _ everything _ . He catches the way his trapped cock twitches, tracing the outline with his eyes. “You’re one to talk.” He drags his eyes up his body to evenly meet his gaze. 

“I’m not the one who had a gun pointed at their head,” he says dryly. “But you do have a point.”

“Oh yeah?” Akira swallows, watching the way Black Mask’s fists clenched tighter witnessing the action. His next thought is completely wiped out as his brain short circuits from a sudden pressure on his cock. He moans when the pressure increases, edging into painful territory as Black Mask leans his weight forward. “Shit, I—“

Black Mask grinds his heel, causing Akira to cut himself off with a whimper. “Pathetic. And you’re supposed to be the  _ leader _ , yet here you are, moaning beneath me.”

“ _Ah…!_ Fuck!” He closes his eyes, digging his nails into his palm as more weight crushes him. “Oh _god!_ Shit— _ah!_ _Akechi…!”_

Black Mask freezes, lifting his foot up enough that he’s no longer crushing his cock. “ _ What?” _ he hisses.

“Please, I”—he grinds up against his foot—“I’m so  _ close _ .”

He stays silent and still, long enough that Akira peeks an eye open, more cries of pleasure leaving his mouth. Black Mask shakes his head, snapping out of whatever funk plagued him. He takes his foot off, but keeps one leg forward. “If you want to cum, then work for it yourself.”

Akira latches onto his leg, rutting up against him without any shame. It doesn’t take much longer, pent up as he is, for him to cum, a visible wet spot appearing on his pants. 

Black Mask draws his leg away, he presses the sole of his foot on Akira’s crotch. He presses lightly and Akira keens. The amusement is clear in his voice as he asks, “Have you ever been touched before? Your body is awfully sensitive.”

“Of course I have!” Akira huffs. “It’s just… been awhile,” he mumbles. And it really has. Between Phantom Thief business, having a roommate forced upon him, and the only person to catch his eye being an untouchable celebrity, he hasn’t exactly been taking care of his body’s needs.

“Mhm,” Black Mask hums like he’s not convinced. “And that’s why you came in your pants.”

Akira opens his mouth to retort, but is taken aback when Black Mask crouches down. His bare hand slips under his coat, dragging down his spine and teasing at the edge of his pants. His hand slips inside and his fingers trail lower. “And what about here?” He brushes the pad of his finger against his twitching hole. “Don’t lie to me or you’ll regret it,” he warns.

“No,” Akira grits out. He buries his face in the crook of Black Mask’s neck to hide his shame.

“We’ll save that for another time then.”

“Another time…?”

“Did you honestly believe I’d let you off so easily after you  _ tempted _ me?” Black Mask laughs mockingly. “Let’s make a deal, shall we? In exchange for not ending not only  _ your _ sorry excuse for a life, but also your pathetic  _ teammates’ _ , you’ll come back here,  _ alone _ , until I’ve finished having my fun with you.”

Akira opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it when Black Mask’s hand rests on the hilt of his jagged sword. He can only nod in response; as soon as he does so, his third eye flashes, revealing the justice card reversed. 

He blinks to find Black Mask no longer crowding him against the wall. 

“Wonderful. I’ll be seeing you next week.” He glances back over his shoulder at Akira. “I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if you tell anyone.”


	2. Okumura's fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! more enemies with benefits, this one goes out to all the black mask fuckers (me)

They messed up Okumura’s change of heart. Public support turned on them practically overnight and the pressure was starting to get to him. But he has to be strong, composed,  _ Joker _ , for his team. He can’t show any weaknesses, but the stress keeps building up and up and he  _ needs _ relief of sorts. So the awful thought of going back to Mementos, back to  _ him _ , pops into his mind and he can’t get it out.

He feigns going to bed early, sending Morgana off to Haru’s to keep her company and sneaks off to Shibuya station. He’s surrounded by the pulsing red walls of Mementos before he can talk himself out of it and his body goes on autopilot as he descends floor after floor, not bothering to chase after the shadows that run from him. Fighting shadows would usually help to not think about it, getting high off the adrenaline, but right now he needs a specific sort of relief; he needs to be able to let go of the role of leader, to give up control for once. 

It doesn’t take long for Black Mask to find him. He’s yanked down the stairs leading to a safe room—awfully convenient but he’s not going to complain—before he’s seated on the bench, Black Mask straddling him. “Poor Joker,” he coos. “Loved by the public for months, then abandoned as soon as he slipped up.”

He looks up at him, wonders why the fuck he thought this was a good idea in the first place. There was something fishy with the entire Okumura situation and as he reads more into Black Mask’s wicked smile, the fleeting thought that he had something to do with it reappears. Black Mask  _ is  _ a killer after all. “Did…” he swallows thickly before continuing, “Did you do it?” His voice is too shaky, unfitting of his image of  _ Joker.  _ Right now, he just felt like Akira.

Black Mask’s smile is all teeth. “And if I did?” He challenges. 

Akira doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to respond. He’s too  _ tired _ to be angry at the confirmation. 

His head lolls to the side and his cheek stings. Black Mask had just _slapped_ him. “I asked you a question, Joker.” 

For once, Akira doesn’t want to play their game, doesn’t know why he’s even here. “I don’t know,” he admits. 

Black Mask stands up and Akira starts to panic. “You’re no fun like this,” he says in true disappointment.

“Wait!” Akira grabs his wrist before his brain catches up to him. A single thought enters his mind and before he can think better of it, he whispers, “Make me forget.”

“What?”

“Make me forget,” he repeats louder. “Forget about Okumura, the public’s opinion”—he bites his lip—“the Phantom Thieves. Make me forget about  _ everything _ .”

Silence fills the waiting room. He fidgets with the tails of his coat, ready to take back his words when Black Mask finally asks, “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

Akira takes a deep breath, his exhale shaky as he’s pinned under his stare. He tugs on his wrist. “I want—no, I  _ need _ this. Please.”

“Well,” he says slowly. “Since you asked so nicely.” Underneath the usual confidence displayed, there’s a layer of hesitation, something that could almost be seen as concern. He yanks his hand away, and instead runs a single talon down his chest. “Anything you had in mind? I’m feeling generous today.”

“Fuck me,” Akira blurts out. “Until I lose my mind, until I can’t think of anything but your cock.”

“ _ Holy shit _ ,” Black Mask curses under his breath. “Fuck, okay, you don’t have to tell me twice.” He drums his fingers on his thigh. “Get up.”

He nods and scrambles to get up, a newfound excitement bubbling within him as he sheds his coat. Their positions reverse; Akira reverse straddles him, letting out a quiet gasp as his ass grinds down on Black Mask’s hard cock. 

“Keep your hands to yourself and close your eyes or look straight ahead. If you look  _ anywhere _ else, I’ll stop and leave you here. Understand?”

“Yes.” Akira closes his eyes, his desire winning over his curiosity to see who’s underneath the mask.

“I’m going to watch you lose control as you cum”—he unzips his pants, pulling Akira’s half hard cock out with a bare hand—“then I’m going to fuck you with my fingers until you’re hard again.”

Akira’s breath catches in his throat, already dizzy off his words and the hand stroking him.

“And once you’re a moaning, crying mess, you’re going to ride me.” He removes his hand, pulling his pants down fully and coming back with a coating of cool gel spread on his palm. “You like hearing what I’m going to do to you? You look seconds away from cumming.”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Akira sighs out. “I— _ ah _ , love it.”

“I’m going to mark you up. Leave bites and bruises you won’t be able to hide.” His free hand strips his vest off, peeling it off his shoulders and exposing his neck. “Not that you would. Deep down you  _ want  _ everyone to know how good I make you feel, how you belong to  _ me _ .”

Akira whines when both of his hands leave his body, but keeps his eyes closed tight as he hears a click behind him. Lips press against his skin, peppering light kisses on his neck before sucking and biting at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Akira tilts his head to the side for better access, moaning at the sharp prick of pain and a hand wrapping back around his cock. 

Black Mask nips at his jawline, making good on his earlier promise as he sucks and bites the skin until it turns red. One hand steadily pumps him as the other—still clawed—plays with his chest, dragging his talons across it and brushing over his nipples. 

It’s all  _ so much _ . Akira throws his head back, hips jerking as he cums in his hand, crying out in pleasure. He blinks wearily before quickly reclosing his eyes; his vision was too blurry to see anything but a shock of brown and his mind too foggy to do anything with the new info. He lays his head down on Black Mask’s shoulder, panting while he catches his breath. He’s given a few moments to come down from his high, with Black Mask tracing soothing patterns on his skin and mouthing on his shoulder. 

His legs are spread open, the action jolting him back to rub against Black Mask’s cock. Sharp claws grip his thigh while slick fingers trail down his stomach, passing around his spent cock and beneath his balls. Akira quivers as one finger pushes deep within him, slipping in and out with ease. A second follows shortly, stretching him out with scissoring motions until he’s loose enough to easily take a third. Akira jerks his hips when the fingers curl inwards, body already starting to react again. By the time Black Mask finishes playing with him, he’s fully hard again and shaking.

Black Mask bites down on his neck one last time before gently pushing Akira off of him to reattach his mask and undo part of his outfit. He turns Akira around, bringing him back onto his lap. “You can touch now,” he says and guides Akira’s hands to his shoulders. “Lift yourself up.”

Akira pushes himself up, pressing down on his shoulders to steady his shaky legs. He feels the head of Black Mask’s cock lined with his hole, and he sinks down on it slowly. He gasps, tightening his grip when he bottoms out, taking a moment to adjust before lifting himself up the slightest amount and dropping back down. The hands on his hips doing the bare minimum to help him as he starts riding him in earnest. Akira moans out shamelessly, losing his mind to pleasure as Black Mask’s cock fills him over and over again. He blocks out the rest of the world, only focusing on the drag of his cock inside him, the ache in his legs, and the sound of Black Mask’s rare words of praise. The entire floor of Mementos is filled with the sounds of his own steady moans leaving his mouth.

“You’re taking me so well,” Black Mask praises. “You look so— _ ngh,  _ good like this.” The grip he has on his hips tightens, raising him up and slamming him down when Akira’s pace starts to slow down. 

He whimpers in response, feeling his cock go even deeper and rubbing incessantly against his prostate. “I’m— _ ah…!  _ Close,” he gasps out. “I need—“

Black Mask wraps a hand around his cock, making him cut himself off with a strangled sound. He pumps him in time with the thrusts of his hips, whispering _how_ _good he is_ , among other things. 

The care and affection is what drives him over the edge, so different from his usual brashness and filling his chest with fluttery feelings. He clenches down on him, and he does his best to keep moving up and down, up and down, so that Black Mask can finish too.

Black Mask grabs his hips and thrusts into him hard and fast. “I’m going to fill you up, Joker. You love being stuffed by my cum, right?” he asks, groans and profanities littered in between.

Akira nods frantically, still riding out his high. “ _ Please _ fill me up, I love it so much. I love your cock,” he babbles.

A few more thrusts and Black Mask buries himself deep, cumming with a low moan. They stay like that, Akira slumping over onto his shoulder catching his breath, and Black Mask running his hands up and down his back. 

Akira is the one to break the comfortable silence, he quietly says, “Thanks. I really, uh, needed that.”

He doesn’t get a verbal response, but the soothing motions on his back don’t stop. Akira lifts his head up, raising himself up with a slight wince and feels cum slip out alongside Black Mask’s cock. It’s strange being the first one to get dressed; half the time Black Mask leaves him half naked down here. He’s shrugging on his coat when he hears a soft sigh, but no movement.

“See you next week,” Akira offers before exiting Mementos and trying not to linger on his unusual behavior. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. I survived top goro week with way more fics than I planned to do. I was resigned to only writing like 3 at most and somehow I ended up doing 6. Thank you to everyone who liked and commented, you helped me work through the porn burnout <3  
> My [twit](https://twitter.com/SpoooKyra)


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